Poem: Narcissus (in memoriam DMW 1920-1941)

NARCISSUS

In memoriam DMW

There was a boy once, the son of Cessiphus,
Who in the dark dream-magic of a pool,
Saw his own face, and straightaway loving blindly,
Died for his love.

But the young gods were kind, and of his sorrow.
His youth and the untimeliness of his death,
Made flowers spring, flowers with eyes like wood-birds,
And shaped like stars.

And you were like that pretty fool Narcissus,
With the not-unbecoming vanity of youth,
That eagerness to prove a growing manhood,
That leads to death.

For you are killed: and the late spring blows over
And summer ripens. So will autumn follow,
And stark winter - until we who are now weeping,
Can weep no more.

Long years will pass, but I shall not forget you,
For some day when the spring comes golden-fingered,
The door will open and your spirit enter,
Bringing me flowers.

This is Lorna's tribute to her step-cousin Dennis, who was killed on 29th May 1941. There are a few differences between the two versions photographed. Here we have typed up the 'final' one, i.e that on the right of the picture.